Archeology, anyone?

As Ken and I expected, Greece is full of  fabulous archeological treasures in any number of museums and digs.  But the subway!?  Apparently, dig a deep hole just about anywhere and you'll find more archeology than the museums can hold!

Here's a couple of display cases in our local metro station. 

This is a piece of ancient pipe made out of clay.  We can't quite remember if it was part of an ancient aqueduct or a sewer drain.  It's about five feet long and has a diameter of about a foot.  The jugs or jars in the background would have been used to hold water or other liquids in the home.

And below is a display in a much larger metro station.  This is not a display case--it is the actual archeological site (though now protected by glass walls).  You can see an opening  to a water pipe similar to that seen in the previous photo--it's in the middle of the back wall--still in place rather than dug up for display.

And here's an interesting explanation of various parts of the display.  We were particularly intrigued by #13:  In case it's difficult to read, it says:  "Early christian building [4th - 5th c. B.C.]"  Those are really early christians, I guess.

A Bridge to Somewhere

You might be interested to locate us in the context of central Athens.  Follow this link:
http://www.nationsonline.org/oneworld/map/google_map_Athens.htm
and enter the following in the search box just above the map:

Theagenous 11, 11634 Athens, Greece

Expand the map one click.  If you go left from our house, you'll see a large park, the National Gardens.  Just on the far side of that park are the parliament building and Syntagma square, where most of the serious demonstrations have occurred that you might have seen on the news over the last couple years. Continuing left, the next big green space is where the Acropolis is, and just above that are the ancient market and Roman market.  Just above those is a hopping commercial area (around Monastiraki metro stop).  

Yesterday, we accepted an invitation to play cards with a couple folks we met at a bridge club.  The hostess lives just a couple blocks above the Acroplolis museum.  Seemed like a pretty good stretch, but we decided to walk it.  Turns out it was only about 30+ minutes, and we got to go through the National Gardens and past Hadrian's Arch on the way.  We've seen before how easy (and quick) it is to get almost anywhere in Central Athens, even on foot, but are still often a bit surprised by it; i.e.   Anyway, it was a mulilingual evening with tons of laughs.  Dominique and Myrtle are basically French-speaking, but Myrtle speaks English very well, Dominique less well.  It was a hoot to listen to Dominique's gears spinning in a mixture of French, English, and Greek.  She fed us a wonderful quiche and other things, including "marrons glace's (chestnuts soaked in a syrup--lovely).

On the map "above" our apartment and a little to the left is Lykavetos (my transliteration) Hill, quite tall, which we hiked when we were here two years ago.  Great views all around.

Not far above the Monsastiraki area is where some of Kathleen's colleagues work and just off Monastiraki is where we had to go to turn over docs for translation into Greek.

Our Big Fat Trip to the Greek Open Air Market

The first time we discovered the neighborhood farmer's market it was too late in the day to do any serious shopping.  We corrected that this week.  (Some might say we over-corrected.)

First, though, we had to get lost on the way there, even though (as later became obvious after we also got lost on the way back), all we had to do was stay on our street and keep walking about 5 blocks until we ran into it.   We had come prepared with a large carrier bag, a small carrier bag (filled with extra plastic bags to reuse), and Ken's backpack.  We needed them all.  

[The following three videos were added to the blog in June.  You'll notice the difference in how we are dressed! I took these because it looked and sounded like the market at its livliest best: the stall owners calling out their produce and prices, people jostling, and Ken doing his best in Greek while the guy on the other side of the transaction answers in English . . .

 

. . .  Now back to our regular programming . . . lol]

Here's what we bought:

Beets, carrots, celery, onions, leeks, red peppers (to make vegetable borscht.)  I made it as soon as we got back from the market and we had it for lunch.  There's a lot of soup left over and lots of the raw materials to make more.  (I'll have to find Greeks who eat borscht and invite them over!)  In the US, celery and leeks are grown to be shorter and fatter.  Here (lower right corner of the table, see below) they are thinner but over two feet long. 

Lettuce (three different kinds), cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, rocket (we call it arugula)--for salads.

Pomegranates, strawberries, kiwi.  

Broccoli, zucchini, and "horta"--a leafy green vegetable that looks like a cross between escarole and spinach (It's the big bag on the upper left corner of the table).  Delicious steamed with garlic and olive oil. 

 4 kilos (about 9 pounds) of tangerines.  This afternoon, we turned 2 kilos into what the Greeks call "spoon fruit"--a low-hassle way to make preserves that are kept fresh in the refrigerator, instead of canned. 

Here it is, all laid out on the kitchen table, which is over 2' x 3'....you can see why we maybe overdid it a bit? 

And here's the fellow who sold us the salmon--you can see the entire fish, cut in steaks, next to his left hand.  In front of the salmon are another kind of fish all of which have their tails curled up.  (Next time I will ask what kind and why.)     

I "translated" most of the prices while I was shopping, but didn't make notes.  So for those who are interested in such things (prices are US), here's a few I remember:
A head of romaine lettuce--somewhat smaller than we'd find in Berkeley Bowl--is about .75.  A pound of  tangerines: .50.  Leeks and celery, $1 a pound.  A pound of salmon: $5.75. 

And let me add, the produce is deeeeelicious.  Carrots and tomatoes are candy-sweet.  The oranges are smaller and not as tart as ours, but more flavorful.  The salmon is "melt-in-your-mouth" and was probably swimming last night.

For Rent--Probably Cheap

Kathleen and I hope this blog is mostly about the type of large and small surprises that make us smile, but there is another side to experience here.  One example: as we walk around, we see shop after shop that is no longer in business.  Often they have a sign such as in the photo.  The "enoikiazetai" means "for rent," and is something we see way too often.  As we walked today, at one point we saw two closed shops next to each other and another directly across the street.  That's a bit unusual, but we see closed shops in pretty much every block.  Somewhere I believe I read that as many as 30% of the small shops in Athens have gone out of business in the last few years.

Back to more pleasant topics: One of the things Kathleen didn't mention about our encounter with the little old lady is that, when I thought that she said that her husband was 20 years younger (instead of being dead for 20 years, as we later decided she had said), I said to her something like "well done!"  She took it in stride, so I can only hope that my accent made me incomprehensible to her!  :)

You Can't Get There From Here

Every day, Ken and I take an hour (or two) walk.  Sometimes it includes "settling-in" destinations (e.g., bank, Fulbright office, translation agency, etc).  More and more, though, we just head in a new direction away from the apartment, checking out what is happening in the 'hood for ordinary Greeks.  (We have yet to intentionally visit any tourist attractions.)

Today we walked for about an hour on a street we hadn't tried before, then turned toward what we thought might lead us to a park.  We weren't entirely sure, because we had walked far enough that we were no longer on our map.  We found what could have been part of the park we were looking for and meandered through it, exiting in a direction that seemed reasonable in terms of heading back toward the street we had started from.

In the way of Greek side streets, we zigged and zagged a bit, having little adventures along the way.  (We saw an elderly woman who was walking with a cane  up a very steep hill, carrying a full bag of groceries.  When she put down the bag and stopped to rest, I offered--in sign language--to carry it for her.  As we walked, Ken engaged her in conversation, learning that--so he thought--her husband was 20 years younger than she.  Later he realized she really said he had died 20 years earlier! Here's the two of us.  How old do you think she is?--answer at end of blog.)  

Then, more quickly than Ken expected, we came to a major cross street we knew the name of.  We had walked on it for quite a distance a few days earlier, as it is the closest cross street to the street we live on.  Elated, we turned toward our apartment, imagining it was less than a mile away.  (We were also getting hungry, as it was past lunch-time, and Ken doesn't have much fuel stored.)

When, several streets later, we passed a large produce market having a sale on oranges (.48 Euro per kilo, or about .30 per pound) we bought the standard sack, which turned out to be 10 kilos.  No problem, we thought, we're less than a half-mile from home.  We lightened the load by eating half-a-dozen and then started trudging up a hill toward an even steeper hill.  "But," I said, "we know this street--we walked all over it yesterday.  Where is such a steep hill close to home?"

Ooops.  We had turned left instead of right onto this street and for the last half-hour had been heading further away from our apartment--now  with over 20 pounds of oranges.  But look!  We're right opposite a bus stop for the #730--which we have seen at our end of this street!  And, hooray!--here comes the bus!   

Ooops.  You need a ticket to get on the bus.  Where does one get the ticket?  Not enough time to find that out--bus pulls away.  Ken approaches kindly stranger who describes the shop that sells bus tickets. Only four blocks away right near the next bus stop.  Miracle! We get the tickets just in time to take the next bus.  We know we'll recognize our stop because we've seen the bus drive down our street. 

Ooops.  As we get closer to our area, there are many one-way streets set at odd angles to one another.  Our bus makes several interesting turns, too quickly for Ken to find the street names (not always prominently displayed) and then find them on the map.  The bus finally turns onto a street that may be parallel to ours (which we now belatedly remember is one way in the wrong direction).  When we decide we are close to where we need to go, we get up....ooops!, how to signal the driver to stop?   Oh, well--the next stop will have to do.  

At last we get off on a street we know well, only 6 blocks from home, having mastered several new survival skills.  

(She's 79, she tells us proudly.  I forebore from telling her I was only 10 years younger.)

What's the opposite of supermarket?

A surprising number of Greek shops are specialty shops--though not quite as we think of them.  In the US, we tend to have high end specialty stores, such as Victoria's Secret, Sur la Table, and A Thousand Cranes (for those who don't live in Berkeley, that last carries Asian hand-made paper, prints, and home decorator items).  And of course, even though we have access to everything in the local supermarket and "big box" stores, we love specialty bakeries, butchers, and cheese stores.

Here in Greece you will find a different kind of specialization.  Some stores  sell only floor mats and baskets (the theme seems to be "things woven of heavy fiber"--see picture)!  Another sells wheels, casters, and tires (for everything except cars--see picture): "things that roll."  Another sells bulbs (not lamps, just bulbs) of all kinds, sizes, and purposes.  Another sells products made of sheets of aluminum (what we could make out through the window of the store were window frames, various small metal forms that we didn't understand the purpose of, and slatted metal shutters that many stores and homes roll down at night).  Another shop seem to stock just cleaning products of every kind: mops, sponges, cloths,  brooms, liquids, powders, etc.

Some of these stores are tiny--the size of a walk-in-closet. There also appears to be a lot of duplication.  (How many fancy chocolate stores, all of which seem to sell the same selection of items, can be supported within a five-block radius?)

Our Greek hosts tell us that these old style specialty stores have often been in the same family for generations, and are slowly giving way to American-style malls.  Once upon a time, little shops that served similar but disparate needs--e.g., bulbs, handles (yes, there is a store just for handles!),  small electrical appliances, glassware,  etc.)--and other housewares of many different kinds--were clustered in certain parts of Athens.  They might be small, but there would be an amazing variety of items crammed, floor to ceiling, into the limited space.   

Now these shops are giving way to the Ikeas (there's one near the airport) and Praktikar (similar to a Home Depot).  We visited the latter in our search for a way to make our stiff mattress more comfortable--but that's a blog for another day.

Always on Sunday

I suspect the blog title is opaque since the film, Never on Sunday, came out about 50 years ago.  It starred Melina Mercouri (Ken and I regularly pass a street named after her on our way home from the metro). The film itself is eminently forgettable, but the eponymous theme music introduced the famous Greek composer Theodorakis to most Americans (you can go to YouTube to hear it).   And today, Sunday, that was just one of the tunes played in what turned out to be a five-hour afternoon of food and music.  

The host for my research project, Alexis Kokkos of Hellenic Open University and Hellenic Adult Education Association, and his wife, Christine, took us to the home of a long-standing music friend, Dimitris and his wife, Corina. I was underdressed--most of the women were wearing dresses, skirts, or a pants outfit--and heels.  (And nylons!! When is the last last time I saw a woman wearing nylons!?!)

We arrived late--but others arrived later.  (Everyone agrees that this is normal for Greeks.)  Even so, nearly 20 people were getting a bit restive because food is not served until everyone arrives. (I missed getting a photo of the food.)    With the exception of the tabouli and the tadziki (yogurt dip), I didn't recognize anything.  We were later told these dishes were representative of the cuisine of the islands.

Then the music started--and went on for three hours.  (Ken had been warned to bring his mandolin.)  Everyone sang full-throated.  Then everyone ate dessert.  Then everyone sang some more. 

This is a typical Sunday--get dressed up in "go to meeting" clothes, visit friends and family, eat, sing--and sometimes, dance.  I'm beginning to wonder if the apparent health benefits of the "Mediterranean diet" are really in the food--or in what's going on around the food!